


Unmasked & Miscast

by homoeroticismforthewin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mistaken Identity, halloween fic, smut-free, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 16:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoeroticismforthewin/pseuds/homoeroticismforthewin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' Halloween Costume for Danny's party has unexpected consequences. Trick AND Treat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmasked & Miscast

“Dammit! What am I supposed to wear to a Costume Party?”

“Dude, Halloween was Tuesday night. You went to Lydia’s party as a Werewolf, remember?”

Stiles ran a hand over his buzzed hair in frustration. Scott didn’t get it.

“I can’t wear the same costume twice! I’ve Never worn the same costume twice! And who throws a Halloween party almost a week after Halloween, anyway?”

“Danny, apparently. You’ve already been to two Halloween parties this year, you love Halloween, I really don’t see the problem. You’re Awesome at costumes. I’m just gonna wear my Jon Snow costume again. It’s nice and warm, and people liked it last time.”

“So I guess Allison is going to be Ygritte again? And I’m going to have to listen to you guys make wolf puns all night?”

“Hey, you love our puns. We’re adorable.”

“Yes, so I have heard. Repeatedly. But the question remains, after pulling off an epic werewolf last Saturday, and a hilarious Little Red Riding Hood for actual Halloween, how am I supposed to top that with three days notice?”

“I dunno. Maybe you could go naked. You’ve never done that before. You could paint yourself grey and say you’re a statue or something.” Scott chuckled to himself.

“Very funny, you rotten costume repeater. Go ahead and mock my pain just because I have standards and you don’t.”

“I have to go. Good luck finding a costume, and let me know if you need any more help.”

“Yeah, help…” Stiles trailed off, distractedly pawing through the back of his closet at old costumes to see if there was anything he could repurpose. Flight suit, no, pirate hat, no… the fishnets had definite possibilities, but... Huh. There’s one.

“Scott, buddy, I think I’ve got it figured out.”

“Yeah? Anything good?”

“You’re just going to have to wait and see.”

***

Thursday night, Stiles sat in his room amidst paint fumes, pleather, and an old pair of ski goggles, humming _La Vie en Rose_ and putting the finishing touches on his costume as it hung drying on its coat hanger. The suit was a bit tight, given that it was from a year and a half ago, but Stiles figured nobody would be looking at that part of the costume anyway given how totally awesome his mask was going to look. Also, hopefully nobody would recognize it from his Arkham Asylum Batman costume (as distinct from his classic DC Batman and Batman Begins Batman costumes) with the piping and belt added, the cape removed and the cowl switched out. Yes, Stiles thought, this party was now going to Rock.

***

Danny brushed a hand over the spiky hair of his fauxhawk impatiently. He always hated the first hour of any party. Nobody ever wanted to be the first to show up, so it was always a ghost-town until at least forty minutes after the party was scheduled to start, but you had to be ready on time anyway. So he was sitting in his living room in costume, lights dimmed and music cranked, irritably eating cheap Halloween candy and waiting for the rest of the guests to show up.

“This sucks.”

And ignoring Jackson’s near constant whining. It was making him sick. Well, either that or the caramelized goodness he’d been snacking on for the last forty minutes.

“When is everyone else going to get here? I’m freezing in this thing.”

“Hey, you were the one who chose to wear a freakin’ toga. I take no responsibility for that.”

“What, like I could dress as Zeus without a toga? Nobody would know who I was.”

“Yeah, an egotistical man-whore with a short temper and an inflated sense of his own importance? No clue how anyone would connect that with you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Jackson, how many times do I have to tell you? You’re not my type.”

Danny heaved a sigh, and went to check the front door for the nine millionth time.

***

An hour later the party was in full swing, and Danny had had to prop open the front door since he couldn’t keep up with the steady stream of guests flooding in. Good thing his parents and sister weren’t going to be home until Sunday, this party looked like it would run all night. He was just on his way to turn the heat down again (after that incident at Jungle, the press of sweaty bodies didn’t hold exactly the same appeal), when he glanced into the kitchen and almost tripped over the damned sofa.

Someone was standing, leaning against the counter in there, which Danny really wouldn’t have cared less about if it weren’t for the fact that this someone was Gorgeous. He was wearing what looked like full-body leather, but that couldn’t be right, because the way that suit was hugging every curve as though it’s dog had just died, Danny was pretty sure it defied physics in a way that textiles generally don’t. He’d dated a guy with leather pants once, and while they were extremely hot, they didn’t fit That well.

And this? Fit _Well_. The outfit revealed slim but defined musculature, and a long, lean build; flat, smooth planes broken only by jutting hipbones and the sleek curve of a seriously lush ass. A graceful, long fingered hand reached to rub the back of a shoulder, and Danny’s mind took a serious turn for the filthy. Between that ass and those incredible hands, could you blame him? He ran through the guest-list in his mind and came up with nothing. There was nobody at school who looked like that, his hacking friends were mostly at least a three hour drive away, and since he and Mark had broken up and the rumor had spread that he’d been cheating with Jackson, practically none of his friends from the club were even talking to him anymore.

Huh.

Danny noticed that the bowl of chips that Mr. Sex was eating out of was almost empty. Bingo.

***

“Hey, let me refill that for you.”

“Thanks.” The stranger’s face creased in an adorably crooked grin.

“I’m Danny by the way.”

The grin fell away as a hand was scrubbed roughly over the mouth. There was an awkward pause. Danny was just starting to consider making an exit when the stranger deked suddenly to the side, catching the small yellow stars painted over Danny’s ear.

“Bobak!”

Danny’s face lit up in a grin.

“You’re the first person tonight to catch that. If I’d known this was going to be obscure I’d have dressed as Lyman Spitzer.”

“Well, if you’re going to be obscure anyway, you might as well run with it. Probably not too many space exploration and astrophysics fans in this crowd. No love for Carl Sagan?”

“Just not sure I could pull off the Turtleneck and Seventies hair.”

They stood for a moment, grinning stupidly at each other.

“Excellent Cyclops, by the way.”

“Thanks! I was aiming for a Cassaday era, Astonishing X-Men look, but it’s a bit of a mish-mash, honestly.”

“I uh, don’t read the comics much. Mostly know him from the movies.”

“That is a travesty. Not that the movies are bad, I mean, the first one was great, and the second one was pretty solid. But ehhh… Last Stand? Tried to fit too much into one movie, the pacing was off. It’s a good thing that First Class brought things back up to par. Better even. It might have saved the franchise.”

There was something so familiar about this guy, about the way he never quite stopped moving, about his low, slightly rough voice, about the way he was always nodding or fidgeting with those fingers. Those long, long...

“So I assume you saw Avengers?” Danny asked, somewhat hastily.

“Like four times. I loved it, it ate my entire allowance.”

Huh.

“So, you’re still in high school, then? I mean, not that I’m judging if you’re getting an allowance in college. It’s gotta help cover costs.”

“No, I’m in high school.”

His voice quirked up, as though he were confused, and Danny’s head started to hurt. This guy still hadn’t mentioned his name.

“So, you must have driven pretty far to get here, then. Unless you’re at Beacon Hills.”

The stranger worried his lower lip with his tongue nervously. Danny wasn’t sure if he was more intrigued or aroused. Why wasn’t this guy just saying who he was? Danny knew everyone at BHHS, there was no way he was from around here.

“I mean, you seem so familiar. Do you play Lacrosse? Or maybe hang out at Jungle?”

“Uh, both, actually.” He laughed low in his throat, pleased.

“Really? That must be why you’re so familiar. Maybe we’ve played against each other. Or danced together, maybe?” Danny shot him a flirty smile.

“Uh… I have never had that pleasure. The dancing.”

“Well, maybe it’s time we correct that oversight. Wanna dance?”

The boy hesitated. Danny bobbed his head, apologetic smile already creeping across his face as he prepared to excuse himself. With all these mixed signals he had no idea where he stood with this guy, and it was making him crazy.

“Uh, sure! Although, I’m not a great dancer or anything.”

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was nervous because he was afraid Danny would write him off? But that was ridiculous. The guy was built, and funny, and smart, and all of it without having an ego the size of Jackson’s. Who wouldn’t want a guy like that? Even if he was a total klutz… Oh. Something in Danny’s brain was itching at that. Who _was_ this guy? Why was he so damned _familiar_?

“So, I guess, we should go… dance or whatever?” The guy asked, extending one of his slender hands towards Danny. Danny noticed the pronounced veins along the wrist, the freckles spattered across the back of it, the short, clean fingernails, the bitten cuticles. And then he placed his hand into it, and he promptly forgot what he was thinking, as he felt his fingers come in contact with the soft, cool skin of the palm, the calloused fingertips, and saw that lithe pink tongue dart out to moisten those lips again.

Danny nodded, smiled. “Sure thing.”

He allowed himself to be towed gently into the living room where the music was almost unbearably loud, and there were dozens of people dancing already. The black skintight suit seemed to restrict range of motion somewhat, but the guy wasn’t actually too bad. He started with the goofy head-bob thing, complete with concentration overbite, but as he relaxed into the music and stopped staring at Danny, eyes scanning the room behind his head, it was like a wave of coordination swept down his body. It was as though he was only clumsy because his brain got in his body’s way, and once it was distracted, his hips gyrated, and his torso undulated like he was channeling the beat.

Danny wanted to tell him that he was a good dancer, but he was certain that the second he did the guy would be back to tripping over his own feet, so instead he just scanned the body under the black suit appreciatively, enjoying the view. Which was just as scenic from the front. The long lean physique he’d seen from behind revealed slender, but muscular shoulders, small, but defined pecs, a trim waist and washboard stomach (Danny couldn’t be sure of six-pack status without an unobstructed view, which he hoped to secure later), prominent hipbones that carved channels down his flat belly towards an entirely porntastic bulge, and long, slim thighs that Danny found himself wanting to touch, to taste.

Someone prodded him in the back, and he spun, a flush rising to his cheeks, to face Lydia Martin in a fairly epic recreation of Jennifer Connelly’s Labyrinth ballgown (but with slightly more subdued hair, which Danny thought was a good choice given that there probably wasn’t enough hairspray in Beacon Hills to reinvent the original).

“Having fun?” She asked Danny archly.

“Uh, yeah… we were just dancing.” He tried to make a face that suggested Please don’t interrupt me when I’m with a hot guy, but apparently he failed, because Lydia just cocked her head and grinned impishly.

“I was wondering when you were planning to notice him. It’s about time.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially and smirked. “Give him a chance. See if you can put that mouth of his to better use.”

She flounced off before she could catch Danny’s confusion and annoyance, which Danny was frankly grateful for. But when he turned back to his mystery man, he was not only chewing his lip, he was actually blushing. Shit. Danny wished he hadn’t heard that.

“I’m so sorry, she’s not always like that…”

“Uh, yeah, she kind of is. I mean, Awkward, but it’s fine. That’s just Lydia being Lydia.”

The niggling sense that Danny was missing something really obvious was rapidly inflating into a certainty that he was being fucked with. He stepped closer to Cyclops.

“Okay, why do you know Lydia? Why does Lydia know you? What’s going on? Is this going to end with me face-down on the floor again?” Danny demanded exasperatedly.

The man in black avoided Danny’s gaze.

“Uh… maybe we should go somewhere and talk…”

“Yeah. Maybe we should.” Danny grabbed his hand impatiently, and hauled him off in the direction of his bedroom where they could be sure of a little less distraction and Danny could hopefully finally figure out what the hell was going on.

***

Danny closed the door behind him, and looked over at where the man in black was sitting on the edge of the bed, long legs stretched out in front of him, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, looking like he was waiting for a guilty verdict. And boy, this would be a lot easier if this guy wasn’t so hot. And also kind of adorably dejected. Danny rolled his eyes and dropped heavily onto the bed next to him with a sigh.

“So, do you want to explain to me what’s going on? Because I seem to be the only one not getting it, and and I’m a smart guy. I Hate not getting…” Danny trailed off, “I want to understand. Explain.”

The guy nodded resignedly, and reached up, pulling the visor up and his cowl down, revealing gold eyes and a nervous expression.

“Stiles?” Danny’s jaw dropped.

Stiles sighed. “Yeah, see, this is why I wanted to play along. But… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to trick you, really. But it’s just that… you never really give me the time of day when you know who I am, so… Sorry.”

“Stiles.” Danny repeated, still looking baffled.

A contrite wince creased Stiles’ face.

“Mindfuck, huh? Sorry again. I should probably just… I’ll go.” He stood up to leave.

Danny scowled, grabbing Stiles’ wrist and pulling him back down.

“I’m not done yet.” He bit out.

“Oh. Okay, uh… I can apologize again, but I’m pretty much just repeating myself at this point.”

Danny looked aggravated.

“Stiles, just… shut up.”

Stiles was about to protest, when Danny grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him into a bruising kiss.

***

Stiles hung the sweaty costume over the back of his desk-chair until it could be dry cleaned. He wiped a smudge from the plastic ruby-quartz of his goggles, and slung them over his bedpost. He hummed and slipped on his robe, heading for the shower.

_Hold me close and hold me fast_   
_The magic spell you cast_   
_This is la vie en rose_   
  
_When you kiss me heaven sighs_   
_And though I close my eyes_   
_I see la vie en rose_   
  
_When you press me to your heart_   
_I'm in a world apart_   
_A world where roses bloom_   
  
_And when you speak...angels sing from above_   
_Everyday words seem...to turn into love songs_   
  
_Give your heart and soul to me_   
_And life will always be_   
_La vie en rose_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the MORE Mahealani Halloween Fanfic Fest, because obviously the world needs much more Danny.  
> Danny's costume, btw, is Bobak Ferdowsi (aka the NASA Mohawk guy), inspired by Keahu Kahuanui's real life interest in space exploration and astronomy.


End file.
